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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29476260">let me take care of you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldieHawn/pseuds/GoldieHawn'>GoldieHawn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shameless (US)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bipolar Disorder, Bipolar Ian Gallagher, Canon Compliant, Comforting Mickey Milkovich, Depressed Ian Gallagher, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Self-Harm, Soft Mickey Milkovich</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:12:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,116</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29476260</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldieHawn/pseuds/GoldieHawn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Just… If you feel like you’re gonna do that again, call me. I-it doesn’t matter what I’m doing. Just let me know. And we can try to work something out. Something that doesn’t end with you burning up your fuckin’ skin.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>168</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>let me take care of you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>God, does Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich love Ian. The Gallagher clan was awfully annoying, but he put up with them for his husband. He’s usually got him by his side, but Ian was having a bad day, so he was sleeping, meanwhile Mickey gets to hang out with Debbie and Franny downstairs and hear Frank go on the fifth drunken tangent of the day. If he wasn’t keeping an eye on Ian he’d be out the door, escaping to the Alibi in the blink of an eye. But that’s not the case, so instead he’s having Franny tug at his hoodie, begging to entertain her as he throws back another beer, (who’s counting?) and looks at the tv, not actually watching it.</p><p>Not being able to take it anymore, he lifts up Franny and places her across the room next to Debbie. “Alright red, go annoy your mom.” He switches his gaze to her mother. “I’m gonna go check on my redhead; see if he can tolerate my company.” Debbie nods and Mickey makes his way up the stairs. He can’t tell if he’s checking on him because he wants to see how he’s doing or because he wants to get away from his family. It’s a mix of both.</p><p>Mickey slowly pushes the door to their bedroom. “Hey, I just wanted to-” He cuts himself off, seeing Ian holding a lighter to his arm. When he realizes Mickey has walked in, he quickly stops it and shoves it back into his pocket. </p><p>“I-” Ian struggles to find the words to explain what he was doing.</p><p>“Shh, you don’t need to say anything.” Mickey comes to meet his husband on the bed and kisses his forehead. This is not the first time Ian’s burned himself. “Let me see.” Mickey slowly takes Ian’s arm and rolls his sleeve back up. He lets out a sigh of worry. He can’t let it get bad again. He was doing so good.</p><p>“I wanted to feel something.” Ian whispers. Mickey shakes his head and pulls his husband’s head in under his.</p><p>“I know.” Mickey rubs his hand over Ian’s back. “You can’t do that though. Please don’t do that again.”</p><p>“This is the only thing I have control over.” Ian lifts his head up. Their eyes lock and Mickey’s heart cracks seeing the pain in his husband's eyes. He holds Ian’s face in his hands.</p><p>“That’s not true. Just- you can’t be doing this to yourself.” This was tearing Mickey apart but he didn’t know what to say to Ian in order to make it okay. That was his job, but it wasn’t that easy. “Can I have your lighter?”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“I don’t want you to have a goddamn lighter on you if all you’re gonna do is burn yourself with it.”</p><p>“I’m not just gonna burn myself. I need them for cigarettes. Self destruction in different ways.” Ian tries to brush it off, realizing how serious Mickey is.</p><p>“I’m not laughing, Gallagher.” Mickey holds out his hand. The serious look returns to Ian’s face.</p><p>“No. You’re not taking my fucking lighter.”</p><p>“I’m just trying to keep you s-”</p><p>“Fuck that. I’m not a child; you don’t need to hide shit from me.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not what I’m trying to do.”</p><p>“Then what are you trying to do, Mick? Cause it seems pretty clear.”</p><p>“Ian…” Mickey puts his hands to his husband's shoulder. “The thought of you hurting yourself makes me sick to my stomach. It hurts me too. So it’s for my sake.” </p><p>Ian looked down in disappointment. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Don’t do that.” Mickey puts his fingers underneath Ian’s chin, lifting his head back up so they can meet each other’s gaze once more. “Just… If you feel like you’re gonna do that again, call me. I-it doesn’t matter what I’m doing. Just let me know. And we can try to work something out. Something that doesn’t end with you burning up your fuckin’ skin.” Ian didn’t have to say anything for Mickey to know that he was okay with that plan. “I love these freckles too much for them to be hidden with burns.” He smirked, giving his husband another kiss. He takes a glance at the new burn on his arm. It looks painful, making Mickey cringe. “Now can you let me take care of you?” Ian nods. </p><p>Mickey leads Ian to the bathroom, lightly holding him by his arm. Ian sits down as Mickey wets a towel. He brings it down to his arm, looking into his eyes as he pats the burn. “I’m not the EMT here, but I can try my best. I’m used to cuts and bruises and shit from fights. Not much experience with burns.”</p><p>“I trust you.” Ian says, nodding to the Vaseline, hinting at what to do next. Mickey dips a towel into it, never taking his eyes off of Ian.</p><p>“Should I get like ice or something?” Mickey suggests, trying to find more ways to help. Ian just shakes his head slowly, starting to become less verbal again. “Does it hurt?” Ian nods. “Is this helping?” Ian gives Mickey another nod. “Okay.” Mickey sits down as well, knowing he’s willing to do this for however long he needs. Anything that makes Ian feel better. ”This is looking pretty bad, Gallagher. There’s gotta be something else I can do?” Ian just shrugs. Mickey’s hoping he can get some kind of direction from his EMT knowledge, but Ian isn’t really in tune to the conversation anymore. </p><p>They sit there for a bit longer and Ian looks like he’s getting sucked away by his thoughts. Mickey rubs his shoulder, trying to get his attention. “You okay?” What kind of fucking question was that? Mickey already starts to beat himself up over it. </p><p>“Tired.” Ian croaks.</p><p>“Want me to take you back to bed?” He doesn’t even get a response this time, which is enough of a response for Mickey to know to put Ian’s arm around his shoulder. He helps him up, and they slowly make their way back to the bedroom. Ian passes out immediately and Mickey stays a while, brushing his hand over his face a few times. </p><p>He eventually makes his way back downstairs. Franny is watching tv and Frank has left. Debbie is on her phone, still in the same spot on the couch that she was when Mickey went up.</p><p>“Is he doing okay?” Debbie asks Mickey when she sees him walking down.</p><p>“Uhh yeah. He was… he was just asleep.”</p><p>Debbie nods, returning her attention to her phone. Mickey grabs another beer, and sits next to Franny, resuming staring at whatever the hell is playing on the tv.</p>
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